Life After Death
by theTestament
Summary: Harry has won the final battle for the Wizarding World, but what has it cost him? Harry seeks peace, love, and normalcy. M for caution. Not strict canon.
1. Life After Death

CH.1- Life After Death

A/N: I'll admit, it's been a while. I took a hiatus to catch up on schoolwork, travel, get sleep, etc. I also decided to do some work to develop a style, and actually plan this story. So now, instead of blindly pounding out words onto a page, I can actually tell a story w/ meaning. Anyhow, I'm back and writing.

Light glittered in through the cracked window of Harry Potter's Gryffindor dorm, dragging him slowly back to the world of the living. It would be the second time he'd made the journey in the past 24 hours. He sat up in bed, stretching his damaged body. He felt strange awaking. He felt _good_. His body was shot to pieces, covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises, burns, contusions, you name it. But in his head, the storm that had haunted him for his entire life, its dark clouds obscuring his view of the future, allowing him only the vision of an evil man with the face of a snake. But that man was dead. Harry's future was finally his own, the vista of his psyche a clear summer sky.

Harry rose from bed and grabbed a shirt from the bedpost, pulling it over his head. Once his shoes were on and his belt fastened, he was off to breakfast. He was famished, because, as it turns out, dying and coming back to life was a taxing experience. He limped his way through the wreckage of Hogwarts towards the Great Hall. The Hall was divided into two camps, mourners and celebrators. Those who had lost loved ones sat in quiet huddles. The red-headed Weasley bunch made up the largest group of mourners. Harry found his two best and oldest friends in the group, Hermione wrapped in Ron's arms, both with tears running down their faces. He smiled sadly at the two, happy that even though so much had been lost, some had been gained. This did not, however, quell the rising feeling of guilt, the oh so familiar twinge of "these people died because I wasn't good enough." Harry suddenly wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Harry took a seat in an unoccupied area of the Gryffindor table, grabbing a plate and shoveling down food. The taste was lost on him, but his body craved the fuel. After he was finished eating, he picked himself up and made his way towards the door before he was intercepted by Neville, who had Luna attached to his arm.

"Harry, hey," Neville looked happy, or as happy as one could in the middle of a battlefield.

"Sup," Harry was not in a mood for conversation.

"Alright, listen. I just wanted to say thank you, for everyone," Neville placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry twisted away and began to walk quickly towards the door, nausea growing. He began to run; he wanted to be far away from everything, where he wouldn't hurt anyone. But a single cord tied him to his current life, an impervious cable fixed to his heart, its other end tied to a certain red-headed witch. The same witch whose heart he had broken. Who had no reason to ever take him back. As if his body and his mind were conspiring against his heart, Harry found himself staring out over the lake; he had made his way to the spot where he had spent his time with Ginny, during the happiest time of his life. He collapsed against the tree, and tears began to stream down his face. He cried for himself at first, but soon the tears flowed for Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Colin, Fred, and the others who now lay cold. He was consumed by grief until a hand rested on his shoulder. When he dried his eyes, he saw the sun beginning to set. George Weasley was looking down at him, a surprisingly happy look on his face.

"Hello, George," Harry was fighting back a sob.

"Come on, leaky faucet, I've got something to talk to you about," George had a serious look on his face. Harry was confused. He hoped it wasn't going to be about Ginny. George led Harry down into the bowels of Hogwarts, guiding him ever deeper, until they arrived in a small dungeon classroom. George opened the door and ushered Harry inside. Harry looked around, trying to discern the meaning of the visit, when a cold rush about knocked him off his feet. When he looked down, there was a semi-transparent head jutting out from his torso. It was a very familiar head too.

"Boogity boogity boo!" Ghost Fred shouted, sticking out his tongue. Harry blinked, failing to comprehend.

"How are you, I mean, what?" Harry stammered.

"Well I couldn't just leave my poor, helpless twin all on his own, now could I?" Fred was grinning, as was George.

"Wow. I don't know what to say. Does your family know?"

"Yeah, they had kinda the same reaction."

"Jesus, well, I guess it's good to still have you around," Harry was still dumbfounded. He stumbled out of the classroom. He felt the need for food again, but he wasn't going to brave the Great Hall again. He made his way to the kitchens instead.

After a hearty meal, Harry felt drowsy. He began to make his way back to the Common Room. He was walking through the shadowed corridors when he plowed head first into an oncoming person. He looked up ", I'm so sorry, excuse me," He apologized. Ginny just stared him in the face. He saw who it was and tried to make a quick retreat, but she grabbed his arm. He turned around and looked her in the eyes. She had a soft fire in her eyes, and Harry began to sink into them. Realizing his actions, he snapped away, pushing her away. He refused to hurt her anymore. He fled, making his way to the headmaster's office. McGonagall refused to occupy the office until it had been repaired and her new position made official, which meant that, for now, it was empty. Harry sat back in the huge headmaster's chair, and soon he fell asleep.

In his dreamscape, the familiar nightmares began to arise, but now, he found strength inside him, and whatever his internal demons threw at him, he overcame. Voldemort raised his wand over Ginny's beaten form, but now Harry wasn't a statue, he raised his own wand and a bolt of golden light smashed Voldemort away, his body evaporating to dust. Harry awoke for the first time in years not drenched in cold sweat or in a state of panic. He smiled. Today Harry moved home to Grimmauld Place for some peace and quiet, some R&R. He had a month alone before he begrudgingly allowed Ron, and potentially Hermione, into his home. But for now, it was breakfast time. Harry arrived in the Great Hall as everyone else was beginning to eat. Much to his embarrassment, the entire congregation rose to their feet, cheering and clapping. Harry knew he was turning red as he made his way to sit between his two best friends. Thankfully, McGonagall came to his rescue, tapping on her orange juice glass, the chimes magically amplified over the hall, causing silence. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today is the day we begin to reverse the damage that our previous staff," she said this with a severe disdain ", have wrecked upon these hallowed halls." There rose a great cheer from the audience ", today we must begin to rebuild!" Harry's heart soared at the thought of his first real home being returned to glory, but he knew that, for a while anyways, he would not be here to help. The rest of the Headmistress' speech reverberated through the hall, but Harry was cast into his own thoughts. As the rest of the survivors began to file back to their dorms, Harry stood up, turned on the spot and disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: First chapter done! I'll try to write a chapter a week, but we'll see what happens. Thanks for reading, and, as always, anything you recognize belongs to JKR. 'Till next time.


	2. Where the Heart Is

Ch.2- Where the Heart Is

A/N: Alright, next chapter. This won't be the last one this time, I promise. Also, I've decided I might want to get a Beta Reader, any suggestions/volunteers?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry reappeared in the familiar entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. The house was dark and dusty, but that was fine with Harry. He needed something to do anyways. His luggage was stacked neatly by the door where he had sent it, and with a flick of his wand, it set to work unpacking itself in his bedroom. With another flick, Harry brought up the lights, setting off his favorite portrait screaming. Harry rolled his eyes. He had planned for this. He drew the Elder Wand and quickly removed the painting, 'accidentally' lighting it aflame in the process. So began a whirlwind of clean. Harry systematically scrubbed, dusted, shined, painted, and washed every single solitary inch of the old Black residence. Soon he was left with only the Black family tree. With a little magic he had turned it into a large image of the Marauders, minus Pettigrew, plus Lily. An internal peace of sorts settled over him. Or maybe it was exhaustion. He had been working for seven hours, skipped lunch, and had been fighting for his life 48 hours ago. He needed a drink.

Harry groaned, his head was pulsing. He had been in this habit for days now. Wake up, work, drink when the work was done, pass out, wake up, rinse, and repeat. And he was going to run out of work before he ran out of booze. And still the pain came, and he felt doubly guilty; guilty that he had gotten so many killed and guilty that _she_ kept pushing to the front of his mind. Harry stumbled to the window, collecting the days' post. Junk mail, a Daily Prophet for kindling (he did whatever he could without magic now), and more junk mail. But today there was something special, a letter from the Weasley's, written in a handwriting that made his heart thrum. Ginny's. The thought of her sent spasms across his heart, he instinctively reached for the bottle on his desk. He took a long swig, letting it dull the pain. The storm in his head was back, and only the face in the clouds had changed. He opened the letter. It was short, an invitation to dinner. He knew that Mrs. Weasley had probably already started cooking for him; he had no choice but to accept. He groaned. He took another swig. His vision blurred as he began to sway.

Harry woke up the next morning, no, two mornings later, still on the floor, headache and hangover in a vicious one-two punch leaving him weak. Today was the day, he got to put himself through the worst pain he cared to think of. He'd rather fight Voldemort, twice. He hauled himself up and stumbled to his car, it was a beat up POS that he had bought to fill in the time between sleeping and drinking. Most wizards would call him stupid for driving, but he was way to hung-over to apparate. His charmed GPS set to the Burrow, Harry gunned the over the country roads of Britain. He arrived late at the Burrow, and still hung-over. He was making his way to the door when he was intercepted by Mr. Weasley. "Wow Harry, is that a muggle automobile!"

"Yes," Harry muttered.

"Jesus, Harry, how much have you had to drink?"

"A little,"

Mrs. Weasley flung the door wide open ", Harry!"

"Yes, we'll be right in love, he's just showing me his car!" Mr. Weasley yelled, escorting Harry to the vehicle. ", Sober up, boy, what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing,"

"If this is about my daughter," Harry could tell that Mr. Weasley could read the guilt on his face ", Harry, all is not lost, drink this," He handed Harry a small potion. Harry drank it and the fog began to clear, and allowed Mr. Weasley to escort him inside. The whole family surrounded him, hugging him. A crushing one from Mrs. Weasley, a warm one from Ron, an awkward one from Percy, a shocking one from George (courtesy of some new gag), a cold one from ghost Fred, and, well none from Ginny. Matter of fact, she wasn't even present. He felt confused, he wanted to see her, but it would be so much easier to loosen up without her around. "How've you been Harry?" Ron was grinning from ear to ear, but he seemed jittery and strangely nervous.

"I've been good, just keeping busy," Harry didn't want to talk about himself or his lifestyle over the past couple of weeks.

"Have you been looking for a job?" Mrs. Weasley sounded almost accusatory.

"Well, uh, not really," Harry diverted his gaze in embarrassment.

"Sheesh mum, he only just saved the world, he deserves some time off," Percy, of all people, jumped to Harry's rescue. Thankfully, the debate was cut short by Hermione's arrival. Ron's stress level began to escalate noticeably. Hermione had no sooner taken off her coat then they were all herded to the dinner table. As usual, the food was delicious, which ghost Fred ceaselessly bitched about. Surprisingly, there was still no Ginny. Harry began to relax, joke around with his adoptive family. By the time dessert was served Harry had agreed to stay the night.

After dinner, Harry made his way to Ron's room to crash, his day without alcohol leaving him exhausted. Ron and Hermione had gone on a walk, so he had the room to himself. He stretched out on the bed and began to drift off when a knock came at the door. Harry feigned sleep, and the door squeaked open. A couple soft footsteps and he felt a weight on the edge of his mattress. A sigh that made his heart leap and a gentle hand running through his hair sent a tingle down his back. Ginny leaned down and kissed him on the forehead before slowly rising and exiting, leaving Harry caught between his conflicting emotions. Not only would her brothers kill him if he touched her again, after what he did to her, he wasn't about to put her into the kind of danger that inevitably followed those he loved. On the other hand, he did love her, and if he was to judge by her brief visit, she had some feelings left for him. Harry drifted into a fitful sleep.

Harry was home, Grimmauld Place, but it was different, more surreally lit, and Ginny was there. She pressed her lips to his; he returned it with passion, sliding his hands up her back, taking her shirt with him. Harry snapped awake, hot sweat seeping through his clothes. He glanced at the clock. It was ten in the morning, everyone else was awake. He took a quick, cold shower and cleaned his clothes with a flick of his wand, pulling them back on.

The kitchen was even busier than usual, with Mrs. Weasley moving incredibly fast, faster than one would think possible for a woman of her size. "Oh Harry dear, you'll never guess what happened, oh, but Ron will want to tell you himself, I believe he's in the garden," she said to him, never slowing her mad pace. Harry wandered out the back of the house in search of Ron, who he found on a bench, with Hermione's head in his lap. "Hey, Harry, come here!" Ron gestured enthusiastically to him. Harry made his way over, and when he got near enough, Hermione stuck her left hand in his face. On it was a shimmering diamond ring. Harry blinked in shock, trying to comprehend what it could mean.

"We're getting married!" Hermione squealed.

"Uh, wow," Harry was relatively speechless. His two best friends were getting married. To one another. He knew he should be happy for them, but he found himself wishing that it was another Weasley getting married, and she was getting married to him. "I guess your Mum's freaking out, huh," It was a lame attempt at conversation.

"You saw her, right? She's been like that since we told her," Ron looked a little embarrassed at his mother's antics. Harry forced a laugh before making a pitiful excuse about breakfast and rushing away. He needed to leave, to go home and hide. He wouldn't let his desires best him. He threw his clothes back into his bag, throwing over his shoulder and turning on the spot, disappearing from the Burrow. Ginny watched him go from the doorway with a sad smile on her face. Harry landed in his kitchen, grabbing his bottle and tilting his head back, draining to bottle of its burning liquid.

"You quite done, Harry?" Kingsley was leaning on Harry's counter.

"Um, yeah," Harry's voice was already slurred. Kingsley flicked his wand and Harry felt his brain clear and his liver let out a sigh in relief.

"Harry, I'd like to make you an offer,"

"Shoot," Harry was curious.

"After the war, we're low on Ministry officials, especially Aurors. Consider this my formal invitation to begin training in July."

Harry blinked in shock. He never expected to join the ranks of the Aurors, especially without re-taking his seventh year. "But what about my N.E.W.T.s? Or my whole seventh year?"

"Harry, you killed the most powerful dark wizard to ever live, destroyed his horocruxes, evaded his best men. I think your seventh year would be a moot point," Kingsley said with a laugh.

"I don't know what to say Kingsley, this has always been a dream of mine," Harry was in a state of disbelief.

"Does this mean I can expect you July 1st?"

"Yes sir,'

Kingsley was making his way to the door when he turned back ", Oh, and Harry, I believe Molly is sending over dinner, so just be prepared." Harry grinned; he knew that Mrs. Weasley didn't want him to go out on his own.

"Thanks for the heads up, Kingsley; it's been good to see you," seeing Kingsley had made Harry brace himself for a wave of guilt, but it had been nowhere near as bad as he had expected. Kingsley departed and Harry sat down to draft a letter to Andromeda and Teddy while he waited for dinner.

Soon enough, Harry heard a timid knock at the door and he rose to collect his dinner. He opened his door to find Ginny standing outside his door in the rain, a heavy pot in her arms. Harry's heart pulsed and he gestured here inside. "You must be freezing; I can't believe they made you come over in this weather."

"I volunteered, Harry," She smiled at him, and he melted inside, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms.

"Why?"

"Cause we need to talk," She looked serious, Harry got worried.

"What about? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, you," she looked genuinely pissed. Harry stared at her, taking in the features of the girl he loved, wanting to touch her, but not wanting to hurt her. She continued, and Harry braced to be battered with how he needed to leave her alone or fear the wrath of her five brothers and ghost brother. He was met with something else entirely.

"Where have you been? I've wanted to see you. The war's over Harry, you can stop pushing me away." She placed her hands on his chest, and felt his heart begin to race. He felt it build up inside him, not caring that she was soaking wet, or that her brothers would put a price on his head, or that the paparazzi would have a field day. He pulled her close, his lips finding hers. To Harry's delight, she returned his intensity. The passion built, until a loud growl from Harry's stomach separated them.

"Seriously Harry, you choose food over me?"

"It is your mother's cooking," He put on a guilty face.

"Touché."

"You're soaked anyways, let's sit by the fire."

"Sounds good."

They curled up on the couch, Harry with a bowl of stew, Ginny wrapped in a blanket, discussing the past 9 months and their tragedies. The shared catharsis left them both exhausted, and they fell asleep in each other's arms. Harry was not troubled by nightmares that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: Another chapter has gone, thanks for reading. Don't forget to review. See you next time.


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